The Thorns Will Go Away
by DuchessofSomerset
Summary: AU ending to series four in which Edith goes to live with Rosamund and gets a job with Richard Carlisle.


A/N: Before next weeks episode I couldn't resist jumping in with this. It's totally AU and is basically what I'd like to see happen to Edith. Assuming we can't raise the dead and have her run away with Lavinia.

* * *

Edith didn't tell Cora in the end.

Instead within a week of heading up to Downton she was back on her aunt Rosamund's doorstep at Eaton Square, contritely waiting to be seen in as though she was a passing stranger rather than the family of the lady of the house. Mead, who was as inscrutable as Carson, gave nothing away in his face at the possible oddness of such an act and delivered her to the drawing room swiftly, seeing that her cases were taken in by a footman as he did.

Rosamund was at her leisure, sat in front of the fireplace with her needlepoint, looking utterly bored of the activity but pressing on nonetheless. Her dress was as fashionable as ever and was considerable more fitted than anything Cora or aunt Susan might wear, it had more a flair too, and Edith wondered idly whether that was a sacrifice of maternity. Only a few months ago, with Michael here and well and her writing being published more and more she had entertained the thought that perhaps it wasn't too terrible that her life was to be so different to her sisters. She might not be married, and she might not be a mother, but perhaps she could be independent and glamorous like Rosamund had always seemed to be?

Even that half-considered life seemed like only the wisp of a memory now though; she only had to wait a few moments before her aunt looked up and somehow seemed to discern everything that had happened.

"Oh my dear," she half-whispered, putting her needlepoint aside and rising to wrap her arms around Edith warmly. "Come and sit down."

Edith had a notion that Rosamund thought she was going to cry again, and she knew she probably would before the day was out, but she felt too drained to cry at the moment and instead let her head fall onto her aunt's shoulder as they took a seat, enjoying the comfort. She should have told her mother really, mama would probably have been better about the whole thing than Edith had originally feared, but the words had died in her throat and she'd instead made up some guff about getting a new job in London and moving down there for a few weeks for a trial.

She'd packed up her bags again and been on the train before her parents had been able to look at her too closely; Edith was terrified that somehow they would just look at her and _know_. She wasn't anywhere near far enough along to begin to show but the panic that had overtaken her was enough to prompt her flight to London and back to the relative safety of Rosamund's house. At least _she_ already knew and Edith wouldn't be obliged to explain herself again.

"I take it you didn't tell them."

Edith shook her head and sat up properly. She wasn't a child and the prospect of curling up to her aunt's lean frame might have been comforting but it would get her nowhere.

"I couldn't. The thought of what papa would say…" She trailed off and felt the tears begin to come after all. Rosamund's arm rested around her back still and as Edith reached up her sleeve to locate a tissue she found her aunt already offering her one.

"It's alright darling, there will be time for that later. Now we should get you settled."

Edith looked up with wide, damp eyes.

"You don't mind me coming then?"

Rosamund smiled kindly and helped her to her feet unnecessarily, keeping her arm around her niece's back as she eased her through the house.

"It might not be under the best circumstances, but I'm always happy to see you dear."

* * *

"What _did_ you tell your parents?"

"That I was coming here for a job," Edith garbled out over the dinner table, suddenly aware of what a very foolish thing to say it had been. She could stay in London for the duration of her pregnancy easily enough but if nothing was being published under her name then it would be all too obvious that the job was a fallacy and the family would be suspicious. Once she'd arrived Rosamund had all-but manhandled her into the bed and the fatigue she hadn't noticed during the journey had left her asleep for several hours, blissfully not-thinking about her predicament but she had the distinct feeling that Rosamund _had_ thought about what to do. She didn't see how her aunt could help her with her lie, however, unexpectedly Rosamund's eyes filled with possibilities.

"I know just the person."

* * *

Edith had not seen Sir Richard Carlisle since the New Year's party of 1920 and she had laboured under the impression that the same was true for the rest of the family – apparently she had been quite wrong given how willingly he took the phone call Rosamund placed the very next morning. They had an appointment to see him that lunchtime and, before she could quite comprehend what was happening, Edith found herself sat with her aunt in the room inhabited by Sir Richard's receptionist just outside his own office.

"Don't fret," Rosamund took Edith's hand. "He sounded quite intrigued on the telephone."

"He has no reason to hire me, especially not with…" Her free hand rested momentarily on her stomach, a gesture she had found herself performing more and more lately and she raised her eyebrow at Rosamund pointedly.

"With respect darling, Mr Gregson had no reason to hire you beyond what he could see on the page."

Edith nodded at her aunt's surety, not entirely convinced but Rosamund was being so helpful and seemed to _enjoy_ being helpful so much that Edith couldn't deny her. She had misgivings though and clutched at both her aunt and her still flat stomach through the short spell of time they waited before the door to Sir Richard's office opened to reveal the man himself. There didn't seem to be a hair on his head that was different and Edith smiled at him as she got to her feet, smoothing down the front of her coat with nervous hands. He approached and inclined his head as charmingly as ever, offering her his hand.

"Lady Edith, how good to see you again."

"You too Sir Richard, you're looking very well."

"You're eating properly again I see?" Rosamund said with a sly smile on her lips. Edith turned towards her with a baffled expression that her aunt failed to notice; she could hazard a guess as to _why_ aunt Rosamund had quite suddenly come over more effusive but it wasn't something she had the energy to think about too much at the moment. The butterflies inside her stomach reminded her of the first time she had met Michael, when attaining a job for the first time in her life had seemed like the most exciting thing in the world, however, there was quite a bit more at stake this time than the possible end to an entertaining hobby.

"As per your instruction Lady Rosamund," Sir Richard was apparently less confused and ushered them both into the wood-panelled office sounding rather amused as he did so. "The restaurateurs of London should offer you a cut with the amount of custom they've had from me lately." He gestured for them both to take seats and he spoke to Edith. "Your aunt found me about six months ago Lady Edith, a little worse for wear after a bout of flu I'm afraid to say, and she arranged for my meals to be sent to my home."

"Or else I'm quite sure he would have starved through idleness."

"So she saved me."

Edith furrowed her brow, panicking momentarily that he was only seeing her out of a sense of debt. Still, she was hardly in a position to complain about that at the moment.

"She is thoughtful like that," Edith offered lamely, despite being rather more grateful than she could ever express. Sir Richard leant forward in his seat, looking more business-like as he did and the cordial conversation of before was forgotten.

"I read the pieces you wrote for Mr Gregson-" Edith's insides twisted at the sound of his name but Sir Richard was the first person who had spoken of him to her without knowing of their relationship and he swept past the editor's name as though it meant nothing. "And I was very impressed. It's a shame you didn't discover the talent sooner," he looked at her wryly. "We might have had more to talk about when I came to Downton."

"You really think it's a talent?" She wilfully pushed past the mention of Downton. Any mention of the house might inevitably lead to Mary and that last thing she needed was for Sir Richard to remember the reason he owed no one in their family a single thing.

"I certainly do. If you're amenable I'd be quite happy to invite you to do something similar here. I have been reluctant to make too much of the society pages but I refuse to be left behind while the times change around me."

Edith nodded mutely, just about feeling the beginnings of tears forming in her eyes before Rosamund's foot kicked against hers as her aunt cross her legs and brought her quite out of her reverie.

"I'd be thrilled."

"Excellent. As for terms…"

Any terms would have suited Edith and she nodded along, occasionally agreeing with something until Sir Richard saw them from the office. For a moment Edith was quite sure he was going to invite them to dinner but he returned to his sanctum coolly and they made their way down the stairs to the main door.

"That went rather well I think," Rosamund said smugly once they were well out of listening distance of Sir Richard's secretary.

"At least I won't be entirely reliant upon you and papa."

"Edith dear, please don't for a moment imagine that this exercise was because I begrudge you your meals. You told Cora and Robert that you were moving to London for a job. Now, thanks to Sir Richard, it's quite true!"

"I think he might have been flirting with you," Edith said as they left the building, a playful smile gracing her lips for what felt like the first time in years, the elation at having solved at least one problem making her giddy after so many weeks of absolute panic.

"Oh, don't be silly dear," Rosamund waved her hand dismissively and linked Edith's arm through hers as they began to walk down the street towards the high street. "I'm far too old for his tastes."

Edith smirked to herself but couldn't help but spot the spark in her aunt's eyes and the twitch of her lips that suggested she was fighting a smile.

* * *

Inevitably Sir Richard had to find out about the pregnancy but after a successful two months Edith found herself feeling rather calmer about the thought of telling him than she had imagined she would be. She had spent the majority of the day procrastinating rather than working but she had decided to tell him that evening; she still wasn't showing to speak of, but if he threw her out on her ear at least it allowed enough time to root around desperately for something else to do before she was so big moving became difficult. Rosamund wouldn't see her starve of course but she was rather enjoying herself being one of Sir Richard's staff and would be saddened to leave.

He wasn't awful company either and had been rather more mentor than employer thus far, something Edith had enjoyed enormously. He had even come to Eaton Square for dinner at Rosamund's insistence and been more charming and pleasant than Edith remembered him ever being at Downton, although she would allow for the fact that she had only paid him the most perfunctory of attention during the war years. He reminded her of that time all the same; it had been the first time she'd been really convinced she might be good for something whether it be driving tractors, looking after soldiers or not comparing herself to Mary every day. She was careful to avoid the subject though. He was generally affable but she didn't want to push it.

She knocked on his office door on Friday evening and was granted entrance almost immediately. His secretary had left for the weekend and Edith found him sat in partial darkness, looking rather more foreboding than she would have liked him to for this. She had considered calling her aunt to be with her but that was the act of a coward and she was determined, if nothing else, never to allow anyone to call her that.

"Sir Richard, do you have a moment?"

"I do for you Edith, sit down."

She slid into the seat nervously wringing her hands and he spotted something was amiss immediately.

"May I offer you a drink?"

She nodded despite having no intention of drinking anything and he busied himself with the drinks cabinet. She had spent the day going over and over what she planned to say in her head, but somehow nothing seemed to make sense and before he had even turned back towards her with a glass in hand she blurted out the truth.

"I'm having a baby."

His face was inscrutable but Edith could at least take some satisfaction from surprising him. Sir Richard Carlisle was a man who was usually aware the forest was on fire before the trees were but there was no way he could have known this and, for the first time, Edith was able to see the reaction of somebody who didn't already love her. It was to his credit that he drank first his glass, then hers, before turning back to replenish them both from the cabinet. After a moment of silent contemplation he took his seat again, handing her the glass.

"I take it he, whoever he is, didn't wait around?"

She thought about telling him the story of how things had gone so wrong with Michael, but that was for another day and she shook her head, taking a sip of the brandy after all. He knew all he needed to know and what happened next would be on those terms alone.

"And your family?"

"They don't know. I know I'll have to tell them one day but for now aunt Rosamund's taking care of me."

He nodded idly and looked speculative for a moment. Edith could guess that a man who she thought still had ambitions to rise into the upper classes might not relish the thought of having an employee with a bastard child around and she hated the fact that she didn't blame him for that. She should – a little voice in the back of her head that would always sound like Sybil told her that she _should_ care that a woman's life could be ruined by having a child out of wedlock whilst a man could walk away and the men that were complicit in this _should_ be blamed. But Sir Richard wasn't to blame for her own foolishness and neither was it his fault Michael had been unable to divorce his wife or that he'd gone missing in Germany.

"Do you intend to leave?"

"No," she said plainly, sure of that if nothing else. "I love it here and I want to stay. But that's up to you isn't it?" She challenged him vaguely, sipping her drink again as a stray tear escaped. He shuffled in his seat and held out a tissue to her, which she took but didn't use. "Don't feel sorry for me. At worst I'll never be invited to the season again and mama will be ashamed of me. I've read things, I've _written_ things about women that endure things so much worse." She lifted her chin and met his gaze. "Don't feel sorry for _me_."

"I don't."

His smile was small but it was there and she smiled back, laughing suddenly in her nervousness.

"Will you let me stay?"

"Of course. You're a good writer and that sells papers."

_Scandal sold papers_, Edith thought, before chastising herself for the uncharitable speculation.

"Come to dinner tonight," she blurted without thinking. He looked taken aback again at the change in conversation before his eyes settled on amused.

"The lady of the house might object to unexpected company."

Edith snorted laughter.

"I doubt she'll mind. Especially as you've saved my job."

"Saved it? My dear Lady Edith it was never in jeopardy."

* * *

_Dearest Mama,_

_It's been three months now since we've seen each other and I think about you and papa each day. My health is thriving even though I do keep getting the most terrible craving for apricots and the baby grows each day. I swear in the middle of the night I even feel her moving sometimes although I can't be sure, the doctor says it's quite possible but aunt Rosamund refuses to believe the baby is moving until she's felt it for herself. She's been quite wonderful and I think in future whenever I hear you or papa or Mary or even Granny speaking about her in the way you do sometimes I shall have to say my piece. _

_Oh, I called the baby a she didn't I? I can't know of course but somehow the baby just feels like a girl and as it doesn't matter what _I_ have, I think I shall be quite thrilled with a girl. I don't expect papa will allow her to play with Sybbie and George but I hope one day when they're older they all find and like each other, it would see a shame for my child to go without a family just because of my mistakes. Although honestly mama I don't think I can ever call any of it a mistake. I loved Michael and I love the baby already and nothing on this earth will ever stop me doing either or regretting that loving the one led to the other. It's not what you wanted for me mama, but honestly I have no idea what any of you ever wanted for me. I tried to get married and somehow you all talked him out of it, I tried to have a career and papa made me feel so terribly small. I fell in love and Matthew tried to interfere. _

_The only person who ever told me I was nice was Sybil and with her gone I felt as I did before the war. As though I was just sitting around in Mary's shadow waiting for something to happen to me. Well, I made it happen and for better or for worse it _is_ happening and you will be a grandmother again, whether you want to be or not-_

Edith stopped writing when a tear hit the letter and smudged the ink. She growled in mild frustration but let the annoyance leave her body. She had no intention of sending this letter or any of the others she had shoved into the drawer of the little desk in her bedroom, letters that she had written at least three times a week to her mother since she moved to Eaton Square. She knew she was being unfair, her mama would find a way to love her despite all this, but there was always that niggling doubt. Her heart told her that Cora would love her and logically she knew her mama always would… but what if she didn't? She'd been hurt by her mother's words in the past before and though they were both quite different people now there was always the tiniest doubt in her mind that mama might reject her and for the time being she was happier not knowing.

So she folded the letter and put it away, wiping away the tears. She couldn't sleep though, no matter how many pillows she had to prop her up in bed and instead she felt the tears building. She tried to combat them with a novel, but her eyes were too cloudy and thoughts of Michael, the life they might have had and the one they still could he if arrived, came into her mind; followed distressingly by the notion that had she married Anthony she would probably be a mother already, or the horrible memories of what had happened to Patrick before he'd even known how she felt. She turned over and buried her head in the pillows, careful not to lean on her stomach as she turned.

Edith expected to fall asleep like that but instead she heard the squeak of the door opening and looking up she saw her aunt coming towards her with a sympathetic look.

"I heard you crying my dear, is there anything I can do?"

Edith tried to thank her for the thought politely before letting her aunt go back to bed but instead she burst into sobs that she didn't think would ever end and Rosamund came closer. The bed shifted with the other woman's weight and long, thin arms were around her shoulders, pulling her close and rocking her gently. Somehow Rosamund managed to gracefully manoeuvre her body onto the bed too, making it all the easier for her to pull Edith tightly against her chest and soothingly stroke her hair. Edith wrapped her arms around her aunt's thin frame and buried her face in the soft expanse of her dressing gown, she breathed deeply, trying to regain her composure but found she couldn't quite manage that when a particularly ragged breath led to her almost inhaling two feathers from Rosamund's dressing gown.

She choked instead she sat up, coughing until her mouth felt normal again and Rosamund had managed to pour some water down her throat and then she laughed. She took up the same spot on Rosamund more or less, baffled as to how her aunt had somehow gotten _under _the covers without her noticing but not really minding, and laughed against her chest.

"Quite the mother I'd have made don't you think dear? Choking all my offspring on my clothes."

Edith laughed again but a silence soon overtook them both and she realised that Rosamund was awaiting the question Edith had been dying to ask.

"Why didn't you have any?"

"I couldn't," came the simple answer and Edith didn't push further. She had expected that really; Rosamund always spoke of Marmaduke fondly so there must have been love there and yet there had never been any children. It occurred to her quite how much it must have cost her childless aunt to even come with her to that terrible place to rid herself of what Rosamund could never have and she wrapped her arms tighter around the other woman.

"I think you'd have been quite wonderful," she muttered, soothed by Rosamund's hand on her head, gently stroking her hair rhythmically. A kiss was placed against her forehead and soon sleep claimed her.

* * *

The girl in the office was about fourteen, but looked older and despite not having quite grown into her long limbs just yet Edith thought she was rather pretty. Her father was a baronet and was meeting with Sir Richard and for reasons best kept to himself the idiot had brought his poor daughter with him and left her to sit alone. Edith felt inordinately sorry for her and smiled kindly, tilting her head to catch the girl's attention as she wondered up and down the corridor.

"Hello. Would you like to sit down?"

Unsure blue eyes fixed on her but the girl muttered a thank you before taking the seat that was on the other side of Edith's desk. It was there, theoretically, in case she had a visitor, but Edith was under no illusion that Sir Richard had left it there so that his six month pregnant employee could sit either side of the desk, depending on whether she needed to use the typewriter or the books on the little shelf nearer to the door. She didn't have her own office of course, she shared with three or four other column writers, but she'd been sure to make sure there was an up-to-date copy of Who's Who along with scrapbooks of social events she referenced and world events she pointed out these people had no notion of.

"What's your name?"

"Alexis," the girl screwed up a straight nose. She had a clear, deep voice and sounded so much older that she looked that Edith was quite perplexed. Had she been quite such a grown-up child when she was that age? "_Lady_ Alexis I should say."

"Really? I'm Lady Edith."

The sharp blue eyes she had noticed before looked at her now as though assessing whether she was being mocked and Edith couldn't help but laugh a little bit.

"Sometimes I'd like to be rid of it too, but having a title can be very useful."

"Surely having a skill is more useful?"

"You sound like my sister," Edith said fondly, smiling as she rested her elbows on the desk.

"Is she a journalist too?"

"No," she felt a thrill shoot through her that was half the baby moving and half what the girl had just said. She hadn't thought about herself as being a proper _journalist_ but perhaps she was now, even if she wasn't necessarily on the streets seeking out stories. "She was a nurse though."

Alexis rolled her eyes. "Did she give it up to get married?"

"No," Edith replied sharply, not so much angry at the girl as curious as to why Alexis was so concerned by such a notion. "She died."

"I'm sorry," the girl said clearly, apparently not one to excuse her mistakes. "I shouldn't have… not without knowing… I want to do what you do, you see. I want to know things first."

"I rarely know anything first," Edith laughed good-naturedly. "Sir Richard is the man for that."

"I don't want to _own_ a paper though, papa would never allow it. I want to be out there-"

"And would you father allow that? Because I doubt mine would."

"You're older though," Alexis shrugged lithely and Edith noticed quite how poorly the dress suited her. "Things will be different in a few years when I'm old enough."

Edith had a suspicion she was probably right. The baronet came out of Sir Richard's office soon enough and gestured for his daughter to follow him. She smiled at Edith and rolled her eyes, getting to her feet and following him and Edith couldn't help but hope she succeeded. Perhaps it was that she was concerned for the world _her _daughter would be born into but she found herself very much hoping that Lady Alexis was right and soon things would be easier for women like them to do as they pleased – sometimes she thought it was just as great a tragedy. Poverty limited people, that was true and Edith knew it was appalling, but surely with their resources they should be allowed to do _more_?

* * *

Part two tomorrow hopefully! Please R&R if you enjoyed it :)


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